CHAPTER SONG: "Let's Call a Heart a Heart" by Billie Holiday
Joseph Blake crossed over the threshold of his and Tom's old room when he heard the sound of his mother's voice down in the living parlor. They had an unexpected visitor and he'd barely had a chance to unpack his belongings from his kit.
"Joe? Darling, you have a friend here for you!" Catherine's voice echoed upstairs as she alerted him to the mysterious presence at their front door.
"Mum, who could be showing up right now? I just got back." Joe yelled down the staircase as he stood at the top, apprehensive of this mysterious person arriving at their doorstep. A note of irritation and disbelief carried on his voice. Joseph flinched as he reminded himself of how he sounded as a little boy, whining whenever his mother told him to do something.
Catherine immediately detected Joseph's tone of voice being that of an impatient adolescent and her motherly instinct rose up as she turned away from the girl on her front porch holding her deceased younger son's rings. Her hand clutched onto the stairway railing as she gave an uncertain glance back toward the brunette woman who hesitated by the front door.
"Joseph Daniel Blake, you get yourself down here now! I raised you better than to keep a lady waiting." Catherine yelled back up toward her only remaining child, deep down feeling guilt at speaking to him in such a manner after they had just been reunited.
So much was happening at once and she wasn't sure how to process this...
The American girl identifying herself as Emmanuelle spoke up again. "Is it alright if I come inside? I don't want to intrude on you, but I need to sit down after the long walk I've had today."
The young woman's eyes glistened with a green shine that gave Catherine a warm feeling of trust and goodwill toward this visitor, yet still with some suspicion as to how she had acquired her dear Thomas' rings and her connection with the soldier who had written the letter to her about his death, William Schofield of the 8th Devonshire Regiment.
"Yes...please, come in. I apologize for my son. He's only just arrived home. He'll be down any minute." Catherine opened the door wider for the young woman to enter the house, the dog Myrtle following close at her heels. "Your name is Emmanuelle? That's a name you don't hear much in these parts of England, but it's lovely."
The young woman stepped over the threshold and Catherine closed the door behind her. "Thank you, Mrs. Blake. Again, I really hope I'm not imposing. I didn't know when Joseph was supposed to be back here in Surrey. I only just arrived myself yesterday with William and we're staying with his sister Molly."
As Emmy spoke she heard heavy booted footsteps coming down the stairs and both women looked up to see Joseph, still clad in his blue uniform tunic, his dark ebony hair curled around his head where he nearly looked younger than his 32 years of age. He was stopped on the middle of the stairs when he saw Emmy standing by his mother, her cheeks flushed an apple red and her evergreen eyes met his right away and everything stood still as though time had frozen.
Joe looked her up and down as though his brain was processing the sight of her and deciphering if she was real. Her purple skirt was caked at the hem with mud and what little he could see of her heeled shoes was also covered with blades of grass and more mud, her white blouse was wrinkled and her sleeves were rolled up to her elbows. Her glorious locks of mahogany hair kept curling into her face as she bent down and shook all those stubborn wild tresses behind her back like she was rolling up her hair into a towel to dry after a bath.
Messy and long winded as she was, Joseph had never seen a more gorgeous vision in his life...
Catherine noticed how her son had stopped in his tracks at the sight of this Emmy Hunterson, like a nervous schoolboy seeing a pretty girl for the first time. And usually, she had seen Joe act more confidently around the village ladies, yet still with all the gentleman tendencies she had instilled in him as his mother. She had thought he had found the woman he was going to marry once or twice...
And yet Catherine Blake had never witnessed her Joe look at a woman with such a heartbreaking combination of longing and adoration...nor had a maiden as such rendered him speechless as he stood upon the staircase, stunned in uncertainty and hesitation.
Before the deafening quiet air around them became suffocating, Emmy was the first to speak to the man as he took a cautious step by step down to the women waiting for him. His breath threatened to remain in his lungs as she talked and he listened to her voice for the first time in what seemed like an eternity.
"Hello, Joseph." Emmy beamed a bright smile of joy at seeing her friend had made it home. She backed away as he made it to the bottom of the stairs, his eyes softening at the sight of the beautiful woman standing in his childhood home. "I'm so glad you've come home safe."
Before Joe or Catherine knew what she was doing, Emmy took another few steps toward him and threw her arms around his neck in a relieved embrace. A sound between a sob and a giggle emanated from her mouth as she stood on her tiptoes and she hugged him, her chin upon his shoulder. Joseph stiffened, not believing if this was but another torturous dream that would transform into a nightmare.
Catherine held back a gasp of surprise as she watched this woman embrace her son with such happiness, like she had seen many women hold their husbands and beaus at the train station before they departed for the front these last few years. Joseph felt his own tears form in his eyes as he carefully placed his arms around Emmanuelle, one arm about her waist and the other holding her back, his fingers threading through her ribbons of windblown hair. His head bowed into her shoulder as he choked back a sob of his own, salty tears soaking his eyelashes, his heart pounding within his chest.
However exhausted he was at having just returned back to his mother, any weariness melted away as he held the woman he loved in his arms. He gently lifted her up several inches off the floor for a few seconds, elation overcoming his other emotions, however temporary the sensation was.
Emmy gasped and released a small laugh as her feet dangled from the hardwood floor and Joseph had never heard a more angelic sound.
Here she was in his embrace...and yet she would always remain out of his reach.
As he held Emmy up against his body, Joseph at last found the strength to speak since laying eyes on her. "Dearest Emmy...I can't believe you're here, my friend."
His voice croaked in a low octave as he said those two final words, a painful lurch almost making his chest convulse. But he wouldn't stand to ruin this moment of delight...this day of conflicted sentiments with returning home and seeing again the two women he cared for more than anything.
Joseph lowered Emmy back down onto her feet as she placed her hands on his shoulders. She reached up and lifted one of her small hands to his cheek, feeling the faint prickly stubble lining his jaw.
So focused were they on each other, Joseph and Emmy almost forgot the presence of Joseph's mother quietly watching the way her beloved son was acting in regards to this mysterious woman in her home. Catherine cleared her throat to regain their attention.
"Joseph, why don't we sit Miss Hunterson down in the parlor. She's had a long walk here and she seems worn out." Catherine went to Emmy's side, lightly placing an arm around the young woman's shoulders as she led her toward the lounge chaise in the other room by the hearth. Myrtle whined and followed both women before placing herself down by Emmy's feet as though to keep a close watch on the visitor around her territory. "Are you thirsty? Joseph was about to make some tea in a few minutes."
Emmy sat down on the lounge, briefly meeting Myrtle's curious black eyes vigilantly watching her. She suddenly felt self-conscious about her muddy shoes and skirt as Joseph followed them into the room, pushing a curl of hair behind her ear. "Yes, that sounds delicious, thank you. Please, call me Emmy."
Catherine sat on the armchair next to the chaise, smoothing out the skirt of her dark green dress as she ran her fingers along the blue apron she had tied around her waist. She pushed her scarlet braid of hair behind her shoulder. "Very well...Miss Emmy."
Joseph strode into the room, his eyes scanning over both women sitting in the parlor. "Give me a moment, ladies. I've yet to get the kettle going."
Emmy watched Joe go to his mother's side, bending down and placing a kiss on her wrinkled cheek. Mrs. Blake smiled, reaching up to pet her son's black hair behind his head, as though she were reassuring herself that he had really come home intact and alive. The younger woman couldn't imagine herself in such a position. A mother waiting for news of her children and finding out one of them didn't make it, then being relieved the other has returned.
Joseph gave Catherine a loving, soft smile, his blue eyes briefly meeting with Emmy's as he walked into the kitchen. The young American girl glanced down to Myrtle, who had moved to sit by Mrs. Blake's feet, her black eyes still locked on the unfamiliar visitor to her owners' home.
Emmy cleared her throat to keep Catherine's attention as she removed the leather tied bracelet from her wrist, allowing for Tom's rings to be in view. "I'm gonna get right to the point, Mrs. Blake. The reason I'm here is because...I met Joseph back in France...and he helped escort me to safety so I'd be able to heal from some injuries at a local hospital. And... Corporal Will Schofield had given him Tom's rings after we arrived to the Second Devons' camp."
Emmy stood up from the chaise as she heard Joseph walk back into the room, holding a tray with a slightly cracked teapot and three aged porcelain cups. She slowly walked to Catherine's chair as the two women stared unbreakably at each other, the young brunette holding out the bracelet for the Blake matriarch to take. With a small gasp, Catherine held out her palm and Emmy placed the rings into her hand. The elder woman looked down at the remaining trinkets leftover from her youngest son who hadn't yet lived to see his twenties. Tears came to her eyes as Joe carefully set the tray down onto the table in the center of the living room and instantly went to his mother's side, enfolding an arm around her shoulders.
Catherine inhaled a shaky breath, looking up toward her older son and then back to the lovely guest sitting in her living parlor. "Miss Emmy...whilst I'm grateful to have been given this, I still don't understand. If Corporal Schofield gave Joseph the rings...then why do you have them in your possession?"
Emmy opened her mouth to answer her, but then Joseph interrupted as he kneeled by his mother's chair, taking her free hand within his. "Mother, I sent Tom's rings with a letter I'd mailed to Emmanuelle after I left the hospital she was recuperating at. I...I didn't want to risk losing them by keeping the rings on me. I trusted this honest, selfless lady sitting here to keep them safe for me...and it seems my faith was warranted."
Joseph's eyes focused on Emmy, who was leaning over the table to fix herself a cup of tea, carefully pouring the hot liquid into the cup as she returned the raven haired man's stare, a glint of gratitude and relief shining in his azure eyes. And an unmistakable look of love that was missed by neither woman in the room...
Emmy couldn't help but feel her breath catch in her throat at seeing such an arresting look directed at her in his eyes. It brought to the young woman's mind the dark Byronic aura of Emily Bronte's Heathcliff, yet Joseph revered her with such care in the manner of Edward Rochester or Fitzwilliam Darcy, like he still couldn't believe that she was here and he was afraid any second she would disappear.
Joseph stood back up, leaning down to give his mother a quick kiss on the top of her head. Emmy smiled at the sight of him being such a dutiful son to Mrs. Blake, his eyes softening as he comforted the older woman without using words, just by being at her side was enough for them to communicate as parent and child despite that Joseph was already a full grown man. The lieutenant went to the tea set on the table and poured a cup for his mother, as Emmy lifted her own cup to her lips.
And strangely enough, for the first time since arriving in Surrey...the feeling of being an outsider, an intruder in these people's lives was becoming less distracting. More and more, Emmanuelle was beginning to feel like she belonged here.
"Miss Emmy, I'm most grateful that you've returned my Tom's rings... These have been in the family since my grandmother came to settle in this village. She made a life for herself here since she was abandoned by her parents when she wasn't even yet fifteen years old." Catherine brought her cup of tea to her lips, watching her son sit on the chaise lounge a respectable distance away from Emmy. Not wanting to dwell on the dark family history, Mrs. Blake became more certain that her Joe's feelings toward this fair female guest was certainly beyond that of respect and friendship. She changed the subject back toward the appealing object of her son's hidden affections. "What is your relationship to Corporal Will Schofield, Emmanuelle? I understand you're staying with his sister Molly Satterthwaite."
"Yes, ma'am. We met back in France... he helped me when I was in trouble and he protected me. And...we fell in love, and he asked me to come with him where I would be safe in England since I have no other family...none that I talk to, anyway." Emmy hoped she was convincing with her half-truth. She gulped before she worked up to say further details about her meeting both Lance Corporals Thomas Blake and William Schofield. "He's away in London today but he'll return later tonight. We haven't really been apart since he retrieved me from the hospital. He's a wonderful man, Mrs. Blake. You would really like him. I...I love him so much."
A tear glistened and flowed down her cheek and Joseph wanted more than anything to wipe it away. He gripped onto his teacup and plate so tightly he was shocked neither of them broke as he worked to restrain himself from crossing any further boundaries with the beautiful girl perched only a couple feet away from him.
Before the ebony-haired man could say anything to comfort her, Emmy found the resolve to continue.
"When Will and I first met in France... Tom was with him. They were on a mission to stop Joseph's battalion from going through with an attack on the Germans. And the few moments I knew Tom...it was like I knew both of them my whole life." Emmy reached up and wiped away the tears from her cheek. She struggled to keep the quiver out of her voice, wanting to remain strong in the presence of this elder woman studying her with an intrigue and a testing sort of conviction. "He was so kind and giving...so unlike most men I've known in my life. And I've not been a woman to trust men easily."
Emmy bowed her head, her hand naturally reaching up to touch the medallion resting on her bosom. Joseph set down his cup back on the table and he scooted to sit closer to the distraught woman next to him. He took ahold of her free hand, gently cradling it with his own as though to comfort her and not make her uneasy or awkward. How badly he yearned to embrace her fully in his arms and protect her from all the sadness and pain she had experienced in her life, past, present and future.
And Catherine's motherly intuition instantly sensed her Joseph being drawn to the woman next to him. The heartache her Joe was experiencing for this woman who had revealed a real vulnerable side to him she had yet to be exposed to. He had never acted so nervous and wary around women like this before.
"Please believe me, Mrs. Blake. If I had been able to prevent Tom's death, I would've done anything to keep it from happening. He should be sitting in here with you and Joe, not me. I'm...I'm nothing." Emmy found herself sobbing in front of both Blake family members as she buried her face in her hands.
Catherine set her cup down on the table and went to sit on Emmy's other side on the chaise...and her maternal instinct to soothe this woman crying for her Tom overtook any sort of propriety telling her to let this girl work through the weakness of emotion. Mrs. Blake enfolded the girl into her arms in a tight protective hug. Emmy melted into her shoulder as she relaxed in the older woman's hold and she felt Joseph's hand upon her back to add another layer of comfort for her.
"You did a brave thing coming here on your own, Emmanuelle." She reached into her apron pocket and pulled out a white handkerchief, handing it to the upset girl so she could wipe her flushed face. "I don't know how to thank you for bringing a piece of my Tommy back to me. And I think our guard dog Myrtle likes you. She's queen of the roost in these parts."
Myrtle grunted to make her presence known to her human companions, going up to Emmy and nudging her hand with her cold wet nose so she could pet her head. The brunette girl stroked the beautiful chocolate fur of the Blake family canine. A small smile came to Emmy's face as she scratched the pregnant dog's ears and Joseph quietly watched with an idea forming in his head.
"Mother, why don't I show Emmy your orchard out back of the house? All the trees are in bloom this time of year, being April." Joseph stood up from the chaise lounge and set aside his teacup, the remaining liquid having gone cold. He held out his hand to the emotionally drained woman, knowing he had to take advantage of this opportunity. "Miss Hunterson, may I have the honor of showing you the Blake family cherry orchard? It's mum's pride and joy."
Emmy heard the hope and shy coyness in Joe's voice as she looked at his hand that lay open for him to assist her up. And she couldn't help but be struck into near silence by the blue shine in his eyes as he awaited her answer, as though he half feared her rejection of his request. "I would love to see the cherry orchard, Joseph."
She placed her hand into his as he helped her to stand firmly onto her feet, a soft sigh deflating from his chest at Emmy's accepting his asking her. Joseph couldn't help but feel pathetic at the relief he felt; it was only a simple walk outside around the property, not like an agreement between them that they would court as romantic sweethearts.
The lady already had her champion in William Schofield, steadfast and honorable a soldier as Joseph had ever encountered. If not for him, he would most likely had never known Thomas' fate and Joseph owed Corporal Schofield the well-being of dear Emmanuelle Hunterson while she was here at his residence since she had come of her own validation...
Emmy's green eyes looked into Joe's with concern as she released his hand from hers, fighting a blush covering her cheeks, but it surely wasn't missed by Catherine Blake. A mother could never miss anything happening in front of her regarding her children...but she could save that discussion with her Joseph for after Miss Hunterson departed back to the Schofields' home later today.
"Both of you watch out for holes in the ground. Myrtle's been digging a lot lately." Catherine called out to them as Joe and Emmy made their way outside into the mild April air.
Emmy clutched her hands into the fabric of her skirt, wrinkling the linen material. She still wasn't used to the petticoat brushing against her legs underneath. She noticed Joseph keeping his hands behind his back, his head held high as he walked and his hard ocean eyed gaze straight ahead as though he were trying to pretend she wasn't there.
Myrtle had made her way out the door to follow them, her delicate condition of carrying puppies not stopping her from following her master and his pretty companion.
Both of them made their way around the house toward the spaciously large backyard and right away, Emmy felt the air leave her lungs in amazement at the natural beauty before her. Myrtle barked and whined as she pranced around and went ahead of the both of them, keeping Joseph and Emmy in her view.
The American girl marveled at the numerous trees looming above her and Joe, hundreds of thousands of flowers sprouting on the branches, a mixture of the colors white and pink of blossoms yet to transform into fruit. Petals began to snow down around her, some landing on her head and nose with the breeze blowing them in the air and falling toward the grass.
Emmy's eye caught onto a makeshift swing hanging from one of the bare branches, a large rectangle plank of wood hanging by two ropes tied to suspend around four feet above the ground. She walked over to it in silent curiosity and ran her fingers along the rough twine material of the rope, imagining both Blake boys playing to their hearts' content, laughing and free of worry...
Joseph watched her in amazement at her curious wanderlust as he felt a happiness he hadn't felt in so long. Here she was under the trees at the heart of his family and childhood, like it was too good to be true, like any second he would awaken from a dream and she would vanish from sight...
Yet amongst all this splendor of nature's garden, she was more stunning than all the flowers in the orchard combined. He watched with silent adoration as she bent down and placed a fully bloomed white flower into her lovely locks of hair, the dark brown of her tresses contrasting with the blossomed ivory petals of improvised decoration.
He wondered if she knew how his love was increasing for her evermore in this moment seeing her so joyous and tranquil. Had she any idea how precious she was...to him? To William Schofield? Joseph spoke to her to keep his mind distracted while his heart thumped within in his chest.
"I'm not sure if Tom ever told you...but every spring in May we'd have to pick the cherries from all the branches after they were in fruit. All day we would be out here, covered in dirt and scratches and berry juice." Joe felt tears water in his eyes and Emmy turned to him as he described such a meaningful anecdote about his brotherhood bond with Tom.
She saw him wipe away the liquid from his eyes, not wanting her to witness him display weakness. Immediately she went to him, placing one hand on his shoulder and the other on his cheek. Emmy again gave into the instinct to embrace him, to shield this man from his grief and loneliness in mourning his kid brother. Her arms wrapped around his waist, feeling more the intimacy in this display of comfort as Joe stiffened for a second at the feel of her against him. Her head leaned against his shoulder and Joseph was enchanted at the sight of the many blossom petals caught in her hair... like he had spoken to her about in his dream with him kneeling beside her motionless body in the chapel at her wake.
A sob erupted from his throat as Joseph succumbed to his emotions and returned her gesture by encircling his arms around her as well. Her head was tucked under his chin as they held each other, the fragrance of the petals and the tangled strands of her hair brushing against his face.
Her whispered voice flowed through his ears and the tears stung his eyes as they flowed down his cheeks, dripping down his stubble lined jaw. "It's okay to miss him. That way he'll always be with you." Emmy lifted up her head to look deep into his brilliant blue eyes, into his soul. "Your grieving Tom is only your love for him persevering."
Joseph sniffled, blinking back tears as he continued trying to keep a dignified appearance in front of the woman he cared about more than he ever thought possible than when he first laid eyes on her. He carefully leaned back from the safety of her arms and he delicately touched the flower entwined within her chocolate ribbons of hair...
She had grown even more splendid since they had parted in France. His dreams hadn't done her beauty justice.
"Thank you, Emmanuelle." Joseph took hold of her hands in his, looking into her evergreen eyes. "The kindness in your words does more to heal me than any medicine would to numb the pain. Your compassion is not to be ignored by those who are blessed to receive such a gift."
Emmy smiled, looking down at the ground in bewilderment as though she were imagining the love most evident in his eyes for her.
The sound of Myrtle barking alerted both of them to look up from their meaningful exchange, and Emmy was laughing at the sight before her. The female chocolate Labrador was chasing a rabbit that had emerged from one of the many holes dug in the ground.
A sudden urge to run toward the dog overtook Emmy as she squealed with excitement, being in this gorgeous location of Demeter's garden patch of blossom heaven. She picked up her skirts, feeling like a free spirited heroine from one of her novels, running away from the stuffiness of her environment over the green hills and into the unknown...
As if she desired so much more than a provincial life, unchained from predictability and convention...
Myrtle ran around the woman in a playful chase as thunder began to rumble through the sky and Emmy started to feel a few raindrops splash on her face and hair. Emmy intended to chase the energetic dog in the direction of Joseph so they could go inside and wait out the coming rain... she needed to return back to Molly's house to meet Will when he returned tonight.
He didn't even know she was here...
Joseph watched as the hyper woman ran around and flanked the dog and made sure Myrtle knew it was time to head back to the house with the oncoming inclement weather. The stubborn dog jumped up as though she wanted to pounce on Emmy, who instinctively backed up away from the playful animal. Joe looked up to the sky to see the sun had disappeared behind the clouds.
He was about to call out for Myrtle himself and spare Emmy the trouble when he saw the girl stumble backward and her pained yell pierced the stormy air. In the brief second it took for her to step back from the dog, she had caught her foot into one of the small holes that his mother had warned about when they had only been half listening.
"Emmy!" Joseph shouted as he ran to the fallen woman as she lay on the grass, her hair awry and her skirts splayed around her legs as she slowly bent over to touch her foot. Her lovely face contorted in a wince as Joe dropped to his knees at her side. "Dear one, you're hurt! Is it your ankle?"
"Yes...I think it's been twisted. I can...can almost feel my leg getting numb from the pain." More rain began to pour down on the both of them as she pulled up more of her skirt up her leg. "The pain is spreading to my foot too."
"Let's get you inside before we catch our death out here. I don't advise you try walking yourself." Joseph took an extra breath as he spoke the following sentence. "It'll be faster for us both if I carry you to the house and look at the damage."
Numerous protests formed in Emmy's mind, the feminist within her wanting to walk on her own accord, but now was not a situation to argue about her agency and once again needing a man to carry her around due to her own weaknesses. They needed to inspect and treat her injury quickly before it worsened and became serious enough for her to need a doctor or a hospital.
"That's okay, Joseph. Thank you at least for giving me a moment's notice." She enfolded her arms around his neck as Joseph lifted her up with careful efficiency. One of his arms hooked underneath her legs to cradle her knees and the other around her back to make sure she was settled safely against him.
"And thank you for not chewing my head off for it, dearest Emmy." Joseph coughed as the rain kept on with its shower upon the two and the soldier made his sure-footed march toward his home with the woman he cherished in his arms. Holding her in such a manner meant for a lover rather than a friend made it both easier and more difficult compared to the other occurrences he had carried her before. "Don't worry so, either. We're gonna make sure you're tended to properly and get you back to your Schofield."
He shook his soaked black hair off his forehead as he felt Emmy rest her head on his shoulder, her eyes closed tightly as she tried to cover her face from the rain. She failed to ignore the care Joseph displayed as he held her to his chest, cradling her close as though protecting her from any further injuries and still keeping his gentle and tender disposition was an assigned mission and she the commandant giving him such an order and he dare not disobey.
He had once failed and risked losing her trust in only a few seconds and wouldn't dare make such a mistake again. Anything she said he would do without hesitation.
Myrtle whined at the dampness wetting her fur as she followed them back toward the house and Joseph turned the house corner, making his way up the porch steps with the beautiful, pain-ravaged maiden he carried in his strong toned arms. His whole kit bag contained more weight than she did.
Catherine hurried to the door to open it for her son at the sight of him holding Emmy in his arms, concern clenching onto her heart toward the girl. "What on earth happened?"
"I...I fell and twisted my ankle stepping into a hole. I guess that's what you told us to watch out for earlier." Emmy bit back a groan of discomfort, feeling Joseph's vigilant gaze on her and she tightened her arms around his neck in response to the pain enflaming her foot. "I don't think I'll be able to walk back to the Schofields' house, at least not by tonight. I don't wanna inconvenience you and Joe for your first night back together."
"Don't you worry about that, Emmanuelle." Joseph's deep voice assured her as he walked around the table in the parlor and he slowly placed her to sit on the chaise, making sure she lay far back enough so her feet weren't touching the floor and relieving pressure on her ankle. "Let's focus on getting you healed up tonight and the faster you'll recover."
Catherine walked in holding a cushioned stool to prop up Emmy's foot and the brunette girl slowly placed her heel onto the soft surface. "I'll get you a bowl of cold water for your foot to ease the swelling, Miss Emmy."
The elder redhead woman gave her a knowing look as Joe began unlacing Emmy's black boot as it was positioned on the stool. He looked up at the injured girl, as though to silently ask her permission to do something considered so personal and intimate. Emmy looked straight into his eyes and quietly nodded her head, knowing propriety had to be forsaken for her physical well-being.
Emmy gasped as she inhaled her breath with another pained wince and Joseph carefully lifted up the heel of her boot and slowly slid it off her foot. A white cotton stocking covered her bare leg and both friends knew that another bridge was about to be crossed and burned...
Joseph set his mind into that of his previous medical training, placing himself mentally in the scenario that the lovely woman sitting before him was merely a patient in need of tending to and he a physician doing his duty.
The words from his dream echoed in his head, when he had taken a foolish risk and asked her to elope with him and he declared his true feelings, including caring for her should she ever be hurt.
And here he was fulfilling one of those wishes he thought would never come true, taking care of this wondrous girl who deserved better than the broken pieces of his heart that would only puncture her skin and make her bleed.
Joseph only concentrated further on his task, seeing from the corner of his eye that his mother had set down next to him a large bowl of water before she walked back into the kitchen, beckoning Myrtle to come with her.
His hand cupped the back of her foot as Emmy lifted up her skirt to aid him in removing her stocking. He gulped and kept his eyes trained on the cloth encasing her delicate leg so he wouldn't be enticed as his fingers pulled away the fabric down the calf of her leg and to her ankle. Emmy again winced in aching as he did his best to peel the fabric over her foot and finally remove it over her toes.
He scanned the damage done to the woman he so loved, his jaw clenching with displeasure and guilt that he hadn't been able to prevent her being hurt in the first place. At the base of all her small toes, a large purpling bruise blotched and discolored her fair skin, nearly covering the whole upper half of her foot, and another large bruise speckled along where her ankle began. His fingertips felt along the delicate joint and he felt a small stab in his chest for each whimper coming from his dearest Emmy...
She should not have to feel pain, not even the most common instances of a broken fingernail or a paper-cut.
Emmy observed her friend Joseph Blake looking at her foot like it was the most important thing he had to accomplish to the best of his ability, to insure her smooth recovery and to make the process as trouble-free as possible for her. She recalled what she had said to him back to what had seemed millennia ago, when they had been driving in the ambulance exposed in the fields of Flanders under the starlight.
What she had said about why she loved Will Schofield and his treatment of her... If I twisted my ankle, he'd tend to it like I'd broken my whole leg.
While she had no doubt that if Will had been kneeling before her instead of Joe, he would be just as gentle and attentive and chivalrous, like Cinderella's prince handling the precious glass slipper of his mystery love absconded from the ball...
And yet, Emmy couldn't help but be touched at Joseph taking time out of his busy day when he had barely settled back at home after returning from the front when he easily could've dragged her to the doctor and wash his hands of her.
But, no... Joseph had set everything aside to take care of her for the simplest, yet complicated of reasons.
Because he loved her and couldn't bear to see her suffering so...
Emmy felt heated tears flow down her cheeks as Joseph reached for the water bowl and took her foot again into his large hand. He placed her bruised joint into the cold water and she bit back a cry at the freezing sensation soaking her marked skin.
"I know it's cold, sweet Emmy. But it'll help keep the swelling down." Joseph at last looked up at her to see the tears shining on her reddened face. Her took her hands in his, seeing her so distraught. "Emmy, what's wrong? Did I handle your foot too roughly? Please forgive me."
His voice pitched high with worry at the notion of handling her injury with not enough care to where she was hurting even more.
"No...I'm fine, Joe." She hastily wiped them away. "I'm...I'm worried that by the time Will comes home tonight and I've not returned, he'll think something happened to me. And...I don't see a telephone so we can call Molly and let her know what's going on."
Joseph raised one of his hands to her face, the back of his fingers caressing her blossom pink cheek.
"Don't worry about that. The storm outside and night-time coming won't let up until tomorrow. We need to make sure you stay off your feet until morning. At first light, I'll go to fetch your Schofield and bring him here to take you away, I promise, dearest one." Joe listened to the thunder still rumbling outside as he heard his mother bustle around in the kitchen. "And you should know me by now. When I promise something, I never, ever break that promise."
Both of his hands cradled her own as she looked down into his eyes as he still kneeled before her in his own home, like a knight bowing to a queen and swearing unbreakable loyalty to her.
Emmy allowed his words to flow through her mind and she began to slowly feel at ease at the notion of staying the night due to her injury. She was a grown woman and didn't need anyone's permission to come and go as she pleased. What mainly concerned her was William not knowing where she was after she'd told Molly she would be back before nightfall...
But worrying about that now wouldn't improve her ankle any faster and make her mobile.
She took a deep breath and gave her best friend a small smile. "Okay. Thank you, Joseph."
Joseph found himself smiling in response to her feeling more relaxed. "You'll be comfortable here tonight, and Mother is a legendary cook. You'll want to eat all night."
Emmy found herself chuckling as her stomach rumbled right on cue. Joseph laid aside her stocking and stood up, reaching over for one of the pillows at the end of the chaise and placing it behind her back so she would have a softer surface to lean on.
"If you like, I'll grab you some books if you'd like to read while you wait for dinner." Joseph offered her, knowing she would be fidgety and bored after she had already been confined to bed-rest before at the hospital. "Mum is a secret romance fanatic, but she'll deny it to this day. I'll seek out some of your renowned classics."
Joseph good-naturedly joked as she nodded in excitement and he winked at her in well meaning humor as he went to the bookshelf and saw the options available. Although if none of the books were to her liking, he would brave the storm outside and journey to the library to look for anything else she desired to read. Austen, Bronte, Shakespeare, Shelley... Anything she wanted he would get to make her happy...
.
.
The rain continued outside pattering on the roof, but the storm failed to shatter the calm in the Blake living parlor. Joseph made sure the fire in the hearth had died to embers pushing around the kindling with the poker, Myrtle lying by Catherine as the matriarch stood up from the armchair and stretched her arms. She looked over to the chaise and saw that their lovely brunette guest lay asleep, her head cushioned on one of the chaise pillows.
Emmy's hair pooled around her head like tendrils of silken ribbon, her rosebud lips parted slightly open as she breathed in peaceful slumber, no doubt exhausted from today's events. Catherine was reminded of the Grimm Fairy tales she would read to the boys and such a tranquil image reminded her of the fair Snow White with the pale pallor of her skin.
Most beauteous fair and wonder she was...and Catherine's eldest son loved her without even needing to convey such a sentiment in words.
She had lent the young lady to wear one of her white nightgowns she had kept from before the boys' births since she hadn't been able to fit in it anymore as well as her stockings, Emmy's injured ankle wrapped in gauze after soaking in the icy water courtesy of Joseph's concentrated nurturing of her like it was an instinct he followed by nature.
Catherine Blake released a tired sigh as she went to the railing of the staircase, Myrtle following close behind. "Joe, she needs to be awakened so we can move her."
"No, Mum. Please, let her sleep. I'll carry her upstairs and put her in Tom's old bed. I'll sleep down here tonight." Joseph rolled up the sleeves of his loose evening attire tunic.
"Very well. Just be sure to go at sunrise to the Schofields' and alert them of where she is. No doubt her Lance Corporal is sick with worry." Catherine gave her son a stern look and he nodded his head in acceptance before she walked up the stairs to retire for the night, Myrtle trotting up behind her.
Joseph looked down at the woman on the chaise, seeing a volume of Shakespeare's classic works laid on her lap. He leaned down and held the book up to see where she had left off, turning the page to see she had stopped near the end of Romeo & Juliet, when the titular hero visits his comatose secret wife in her family tomb and weeps over her, not knowing she was still alive.
A shiver racked up Joseph's spine as he recalled his recurring dream of himself in the same position; kneeling beside the girl he loved, mourning her supposed death as she lay amongst the serene glory of flora and candlelight, cradling her icy, bloodless hand to his cheek, sobbing her name...
He set the book onto the table quickly before he found himself having a breakdown in the presence of the slumbering seraph lying before him and risk frightening her.
Keeping his eyes on her angelic features to make sure he didn't jostle Emmy, he slowly slid his arms once again underneath her. He carefully maneuvered her head to rest against his shoulder, her nose brushing his neck as his arms cradled her back and legs, her long hair flowing over his shoulder as he tried to make sure his movements wouldn't startle her awake.
She stirred and sighed in her sleep, her eyelashes fluttering but her eyelids remaining closed. Joseph cautiously made his way up the staircase, their combined weight on the aging wood making creaking sounds with each step.
He felt her breath against his throat from her nostrils as her lips closed in sleep, but not before she murmured a single word as she floated in peaceful unawareness.
"Will."
Joseph tried to ignore the stab of internal pain at the implication that she was dreaming of another man as he was holding her and carrying her... But he couldn't hold either of them at fault for it.
With another glance as he gently pushed open the door to his room, he saw she still descended in content sleep. Joe carried her to Thomas' old bed from childhood, slowly placing her legs to make sure her ankle wasn't interfered with in healing as she slept. His hands diligently moved her shoulders and head to rest upon the pillow to ensure she wouldn't wake up with a neck-ache in the morning.
Since it wasn't terribly chilly tonight, Joseph settled with covering Emmy with the soft woolen duvet at the foot of the bed rather than placing pressure on her ankle with the thick sheets and comforter. He spread the blanket over her body, swathing her injured foot last so he could make sure the wrapping gauze wasn't loose.
Joseph looked her over to see that she was comfortably secure before leaving her to sleep, knowing how strange it would be for her to awaken in somebody else's room, let alone their bed. The blanket covered her petite form up to her chin as she was tucked in safely, her hair splayed around her head on the pillowcase. He reached down with his fingers and tenderly stroked a few stray brown strands away from her forehead... before his fingertips caressed the curved warmth of her cheek...
Silently signaling to her of his love as she was down in the depths of innocent sleep... Adam being tempted by the Apple's blood-red peel... Delving in the sin of covetousness...
A thunderous roar from the storm shattered the enamored lieutenant's shadowed vigil; Joe stepped away from the girl, coming back to his senses as he withdrew his touch from Emmanuelle. Even the Lord Himself was scolding him for almost tainting the woman lying vulnerable and bedridden with such expressions of forbidden admiration and reverence.
Joseph nearly growled to himself and his lack of control as he turned away from her, his most cherished friend and how he would forever yearn to be more.
He opened the door and silently exited the room, giving her one last longing glance before leaving the sleeping beauty to her heavenly fantasies, her silhouetted grandeur illuminated by the frenetic flashes of lightning outside the window.
Lord, I most deserve your wrath. Although a sin it may be to love her as she is with another, my heart, my veins, my whole being will never cease to burn for her. But I'm her friend, and that of her William. I will always be there for her, for both of them.
All I'm begging for is You let her live, don't let her light be extinguished by her traversing between this century and hers. Emmanuelle is only 28 years old, in the prime of life; healthy, beautiful and perfect. She should not have to pay for my indiscretion in longing to have her for my own...
Reserve a place in Hell for me, for she is not mine to love. She and I can never be...
.
.
Back at the Schofield-Satterthwaite residence across the village, to assume that Lance Corporal Will Schofield was worried about the well-being of his beloved Emmanuelle, his sweetheart, was an understatement.
The only thing keeping him from going out into the deadly storm outside and getting lost in the chaotic rain was Molly.
"Are you certain Emmy said she'd be back by tonight from seeing Mrs. Blake, Molly? She walked there, but what if she got hurt coming back in this weather? What if she's lost?"
Numerous different scenarios ran through Will's frazzled mind as he paced the living room, glancing now and then to the pile of presents for all the ladies of his family, including white, pink-tipped roses for Emmy and a surprise gift for her wrapped delicately in a ribboned box, something he had spotted in a shop window as he was passing through the busy London streets and immediately thought of his beloved: a bejeweled hairbrush and comb duel set for brushing her long hair that came with many clips and pins she could choose from in the shapes of objects such as flowers, hearts and butterflies.
"Will, you need to calm down and have faith in her resourcefulness. Emmy has survived this far since you found her, and I'm sure she's safe and waiting out the storm so she'll come back. Sitting here worrying isn't going to accomplish anything." Molly placed her hands on her younger brother's shoulders as they both stood in the living room, trying to keep him from running out the front door in a fruitless search.
"I know that. I...I just can't help worrying, after everything she's endured. Her strength and intelligence is what made me fall in love with her in the first place, Mol. Just... the thought of her in harm's way...after I swore I'd keep her safe." Will ran his hands through his wavy brown hair as he sat on the chaise lounge and bowed his head down.
Every time Will had closed his eyes since seeing Emmy gone and not returned back, his mind was assaulted with images of the monster Erik with his hands all over her.
If she had been sent back to 2020 and he hadn't had the chance to say goodbye and he wasn't able to keep her from that fiend's clutches...
Molly thankfully interrupted her brother's silent reveries of concern. "There's nothing to be done right now. You'll be of no use to her in this storm if you go out there searching in the dark of night. I know your fear for her is out of love, but you need to trust her to be safe without you constantly at her side. You can't always be there to hold her hand and carry her every time she falls. I haven't had the chance to ask her yet, but it wouldn't shock me if she had been a suffragist, the amount of fire she has in her soul."
Will couldn't help but smile at that mental image of Emmy, but he knew she bore the fortitude and knowledge of things beyond his grasp. His exhausted mind came to the conclusion that he would be able to seek out his love tomorrow at first light after the storm passed through.
"She's strong in ways neither of us will ever know." Will whispered to his sister as he took her hand in a gesture of thanks to her for talking him down into giving into his protective impulses. If he couldn't physically go out and look for Emmanuelle, he could at least pray for her safety and that she had been given shelter from the storm.
God, please allow me to ask this of you. Watch over my Emmy, my love. Please understand how precious she is to me and that I cannot live another day without knowing she's taken care of in all the ways she deserves. Please let her come back to us...